THe House of the Rising Sun
by Wind Wanderer
Summary: In 30 years she only came across four lost causes. Four delinquents so far gone she couldn't find anyone to take them in. So she did." This is the stories of the arrival of Bobby, Jerry, Angel and Jack into Evelyn's home.
1. Chapter 1

I just saw the film about two weeks ago, and I LOVE IT!! I love these characters, I love the idea, and I love Jack the most. Anyways, this is going to be about the four boys coming into Evelyn's care. I am thinking of putting an additional chapter to each boy for bonding, either with Evelyn or with the other brothers.

Read and review. The more review, the faster I will update.

* * *

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!" strong hands grabbed at the boy who was screaming. It took the effort of three police officers to hold the boy from attacking a prone figure on the floor. This was a bizarre scene, an intimidating large man who was obviously beaten into a stupor and a boy no more then thirteen, whose knuckles were busted open. Speckles of blood colored the boy's skin as wild eyes bore holes into the prone figure.

A single, time worn woman stared at the scene with a sigh, "Robert, you have to calm down," she had said it without any notion of being listened too. It was not the first time that she had seen such a display, especially from Bobby McCall.

The man on the floor grunted as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, just enough to see the boy. Even with his face a bloody mess, he managed to glare at the boy with a feral gleam. "I want that lil' shit locked up. That fucker tried to kill me!"

This was all it took to send the boy into another fit of rage, adrenaline and sheer spite making Bobby tear away from his restraints. Within moments, Bobby was on top of the large man. Fists struck with destructive efficiency, filling the shocked silence with the sound of flesh meeting flesh. The man let out a scream when a blow broke his nose, sending blood cascading down his red face.

Finally shaken out of their shock, the cops moved quickly toward the boy. "Come ere," one of the officers grunted, as once again the three men hauled Bobby off of his victim. Instead of hanging around, and giving the kid more time to try and finish his work, they started to drag the swearing pre-teen out of the room.

The social worker watched as Bobby disappeared around the corner. Shaking her head, she turned to the mess left in the living room before her. A broken coffee table lay discarded around the room, along with the remnants of porcelain plaits and broken beer bottles. Blood appeared across the couch and the carpet, contrasting roughly with the far too clean look of the well cared for white apparel. Out of the corner of her eye, the social worker saw the wife slink into view from the kitchen entrance. She was a scrawny woman wearing a sundress and a large welt across half of her face, along with the look of a rabbit staring down a hungry fox. There was also a hastily concealed hand print on her arm, one that would likely match the man bleeding on the floor.

"We will be in touch about charges for the assault once we have talked to Robert," the social worker promised. She left the house with a shake of her head. "I'm too old for this shit."

* * *

It was a few hours before Bobby had calmed down enough to be considered safe. A fresh hole in the office's plaster was a testimony to the boy's rage. If the boy had not been stuffed into one of the cemented interview rooms, the office would have needed more costly work done then filling in the hole and a touch of spackle.

When Bobby had finally stopped rampaging through the interview room, he sat on the bolted down chair while leaning his elbows on the matching table. He knew this side show all too well. Pretty soon, one of those falsely chipper freaks would come in; acting like they gave a damn and try to get him to confess that he was at fault for this whole incident.

As if he had planned any of this. _If I had_, Bobby thought, _that piece of shit wouldn't be breathing._

Despite the feeling of leaving work undone, Bobby studied his knuckles in satisfaction. He had only been in that foster home for two weeks, but he had wanted so much to pound this foster father into oblivion. Putting aside his notoriously short temper, Bobby had always been overly protective of anyone who gained his trust. A short list, yes, because it took a lot to gain a spot on Bobby's good side. And this foster mother had managed to worm her way onto the lowest rung of that list.

Maybe it was just the fact that Bobby hated guys who hit women, or little kids who could not defend themselves. He had seen enough of it, growing up in the system; one would think that he would grow accustomed to it. But Bobby had not, though he managed to hide it well under his anger and cocky attitude. Bobby knew he was a screwed up piece of work, bound for prison sooner or later, but he did have the consolation that his future in the joint would not be for abusing someone who did not deserve to be knocked around.

_Probably arson_, Bobby thought as he pulled his lighter out of his sneaker and began playing with it, smirking at the two way mirror. No one got the better of Bobby for long.

The door swung open, allowing a short young woman to enter followed by an older man. The guy Bobby knew, Sam Jefferson, had been his social worker for the past seven years. Bobby only saw the guy when the boy was being pulled out of a home or stuffed into the next, usually with some smart ass comment about being one step closer to juvy.

The woman though, she he had never seen before. She was dressed like all the other socials he had met, her golden hair tied up into a bun. But she carried herself different; something about her Bobby could not place a finger on.

"Hello, I'm Evelyn Mercer. And you are?" the young woman offered her hand to Bobby with a warm smile.

Jefferson pushed into the conversation, placing Bobby's heavy record on the table, "His name's Robert McCall."

Bobby grunted angrily at the male social worker. He hated being called 'Robert', Robert sounded like some useless pansy from uptown. Robert was someone who did not know how to handle himself, someone who was not like Bobby. Bobby had the sound of someone everyone knew, and could respect, down to earth.

Evelyn shuffled the folder slightly, a movement of nervousness which Bobby had seen before many times. His smirk grew bigger, "Who gives a flying shit blonde? You're new; let me give you some advice." Bobby leaned forward, adding in an exaggerated snooty voice, "Kids like me are way out of your league, better to just turn around and get out while ya can."

Jefferson looked ready to smack that smirk off of Bobby's face, "Listen up you little-"

Evelyn waved off Jefferson's defense as she too leaned forward, "Well that is awfully nice of you to worry about me, but I think I can take whatever you throw at me. I have been in this job for a few years now." That smile became brighter as she said sweetly, "I ain't no country daisy, son."

Shocked, Bobby could only stare at the woman. He had never had a social worker talk to him like that.

Evelyn turned her smile to her coworker, "Sam, could you get something for us to eat? I'm sure that Bobby is hungry." Bobby was again surprised by Evelyn; she had obviously noticed his dislike of his full name. _Or she read a note in the file_, he thought, trying to see ways to dislike the woman.

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Jefferson stated as he glared at Bobby. But he conceded, leaving the room after another look at the woman.

"So," Evelyn started, lifting the heavy folder off the table and quickly lowering it again, "I see you have some difficulties fitting into homes."

Bobby blew out some air as he sat back into his chair, "Why bother?" _never stay long anyways_, Bobby thought but did not voice.

Evelyn suddenly bent sideways, reaching under the table. Bobby watched, mildly curious at the sudden change. This woman was proving to be more entertaining then he had expected. She straitened up, holding out a can of Coke and a sandwich.

Bobby felt his eyebrow lift in surprise; "You really do look hungry," the woman chuckled. "Though I would suggest you put the can on your eye for a little bit. That is going to be a nasty bruise."

"Had worse," Bobby shrugged, though he had actually forgotten about it. It had been a quick punch Bobby had not seen coming. Bobby smirked again, "Returned the favor with interest."

"So I heard," Evelyn's comment was light, without judgment. "I also heard that Mrs. Harver left that house soon after the police returned from dragging you out."

Bobby fought down the smile that he felt forming, "Yeah, guess that she was smarter then she looked."

Evelyn was watching him all the while, "She also said that her husband threw the first punch, which means they'll go easier on you."

Bobby shrugged, not really caring about what would happen to him. _As long as I can get out of here_, he thought.

Only when the door opened behind her did Evelyn turn her eyes away from Bobby's face. Without her compassionate eyes on him, Bobby was able to feel his mind returning to its normal state.

"Well, I think that is about it for now." Evelyn smiled at Bobby when Jefferson gapped at them, noting the amused look on the boy. "We already have a new placement for you. They will take care of whatever punishment the court decides for you."

Bobby watched with growing anger as Evelyn pulled a paper from the file, handing it to Jefferson. This woman was no different from all the other socials.

* * *

The car ride from the office was a silent one, neither passenger wishing to be in the other's company longer then necessary. Bobby stared out of the passenger listlessly, nothing new to see. Bobby rested his foot on the plastic bag which held most of his worldly possessions, with the exception of the hockey stick sitting in the back seat.

"Listen up kid," Jefferson finally stated as he parked the car in front of a plain brick house, with an enclosed porch. "This is your last shot. No one else is going to take you; I don't even know why she's taking you at all. After this, you are going to go straight to the group home till you're eighteen. I'm sure you'll be their anyways."

Rolling his eyes, Bobby waited till the jackass was out of the car before hauling his stick out of the back and climbed out. To him, this was just another stop on his way to prison anyways.

Bobby strolled up to the house with a swagger, bag and stick resting on his shoulder. He nearly dropped both when he saw the door open and his new foster mother step out into the night air.

"Welcome to your new home Bobby," Evelyn Mercer smiled at the dazed boy. She laughed a little as she walked pass Jefferson and put a hand on Bobby's shoulder. "How about we show you your new home?"

"Evelyn, there are a few things we should discuss first. You need to know what to watch for," Jefferson followed as Evelyn gently directed Bobby up the stairs.

Evelyn stopped and turned on the man, surprising both Bobby and Jefferson with the fire in her eyes, "I think we will do fine Mr. Jefferson."

And with that Evelyn shut the door in Jefferson's face.

Bobby stared at Evelyn in awe; he had not thought the little woman was capable of something so ballsy. Watching Evelyn pat imaginary dust off her hands with a satisfied look on her face, Bobby could not help but smile.

"I have wanted to do that since I met that man," Evelyn explained.

Bobby had to hold onto the door jam in order to keep from falling over as his laughter filled the house. Evelyn Mercer definitely had balls, and Bobby found he admired this little woman.

* * *

Next up is how Evelyn earned the love of the hardest hard ass in Detroit.


	2. Chapter 2

Ah, I live! And I bring you the chapter I promised. More action this time.

And shame on you people. Not too many Mark Wahlberg fans if you did not catch the name. McCall is the last name of his character in the movie Fear. He was a seriously freaky S.O.B in that film. I own nothing.

* * *

"Pass the frickin' puck!" Bobby yelled as he sent the guy blocking him into a parked car. He did not wait to see the damage of his hit as he skated forward, taking the puck toward the cans which stood for the goal. This was the best part of life to Bobby, the freedom and the release that he had whenever playing hockey.

One of the neighborhood kids swore, hauling up his buddy, "That was a cheap shot you ass!"

"That's a fair blow," one of Bobby's team rolled up, shoving the one who had said it. It was not long till fists started flying, and the street hockey game was replaced with a full out brawl. It did not take long for Bobby to find his way into the thralls of the fight. His blood sung with adrenaline as he struck out at the first face he could find.

It had been a month since Bobby had come to live with Evelyn, though it seemed longer to him. Bobby had to admit that this was one of the strangest homes he had been in over the past twelve years. It was not that it was bad, the opposite it was the most homely house he had seen. And it made him highly uncomfortable.

He felt out of place with Evelyn; she was a saint, pure and simple. Evelyn was very loving; she made sure he had everything he needed. Not that she was a pushover though, that woman could read his mind. Nothing Bobby did would go unnoticed by Evelyn.

But then she did nothing half the time. She did not yell, scold or even talk about whatever she found on him. No, she shook her head and went on to another topic, all the time with a hurt look that made the boy feel an inch tall. Though she had let him have it for the weed Bobby had hidden in his drawer.

"So Bobby," Theo Green turned his head as the team walked down the street, kids disappearing around corners as they made their way home. "What school you going to?"

"Who cares," Bobby shrugged. He really did not plan to be here long enough for it to matter.

"HD 119 has an awesome hockey team," Green said, trying to sound unconcerned.

A boy behind them scoffed, "Yeah right Green, you just don't wanna play against him," the boy snickered as he veered across the road. Green threw a few choice words after the child before turning onto his own block along with the last stragglers.

Bobby hefted his battered old skates into a better position on his shoulder. Keeping a watchful eye ahead of him, he strides confidently down the empty sidewalk. The boy was in his environment, even in this suburban area. Growing up in or close to the city had taught him to keep his eyes and ears open for attackers. No one got the jump on Bobby, and if they did it was not for long.

So when he caught the sound of someone attempting to sneak behind him, Bobby had his smuggest look when he turned quickly, bringing his hockey stick down hard into a man who was prepared to strike the boy. Skates and stick fell to the hard pavement as Bobby stood, ready to take offense. The predatory gleam in the boy's eye made the man on the ground shuffle backward slightly.

"Not to smart, jumping a kid half a block from home." A smirk spread across his face, "People will think this a shitty neighborhood."

Two more people had materialized from between the parked cars lining the street, while another three had slunk in behind the teen. Bobby shifted his hand slightly, so that it was within easy reach of the switch blade hidden in his pocket.

"I've heard of you, McCall." An older man, around his thirties moved between the two thugs in front of Bobby. Bobby knew this guy, Cain something or other. Nothing but a low level idiot who terrorized the suburban parts of Detroit, he was barely worth noticing. Cain smirked as he said, "They say that you're some kinda monster. I heard you put Tony Keeves in the hospital for half a year."

"Just some friendly chatting really," Bobby put on a dashing smile which did not reach his eyes.

This display seemed to please the ringleader. "Cheeky too, just like they said. I like that."

Bobby sized the man up, "I don't swing that way, sorry to disappoint."

"Well, I'm gonna offer you a job kid," the leader smiled, showing off tobacco stained teeth. "Get into the big leagues."

Bobby did not respond, keeping his stony gaze on the man in front of him. He held back the smirk as he saw the grown man squirm slightly. A backfire sounded through the street, making the gang tense. The boy had not moved a muscle, never breaking eye contact.

"Think it over McCall."

* * *

Bobby lay scrawled across the couch when Evelyn returned from a day of work. He glanced up from the hokey game, nodding at the older woman. A strange feeling passed though his stomach when Evelyn gave him a smile and a quick pat on the head as she made her way to the kitchen.

"How was your day Bobby?" she called as she started pulling out ingredients for dinner.

"Meh, played hockey."

"That sounds fun," the smile was evident in her tone, "Seems we both had rather productive days. I was able to place three girls in good, permanent homes, got two out of bad ones."

A jab of jealousy flashed threw him, hearing the warm affection in the woman's voice. He quickly pushed it away; it was stupid to feel jealous when he would be gone any day now.

"Those skates are looking a bit worn out," Evelyn continued without noticing Bobby's silence. "Would you like a new pair?"

Bobby held back the surprised 'why' which had jumped into his mouth and instead said, "Naw, I'll get another pair when these ones fall apart."

"Of course, go wash up for dinner."

* * *

The next day was far too slow for Bobby. He had not been able to get a pickup game going, not surprising with a sudden heat wave hitting Detroit. Most of the street kids had found their way to the local pools, or had found somewhere with air-conditioning to loiter around. This left Bobby on his own to stalk the streets, his mood growing darker as the heat bore into him. He hated this hot weather, it got into him and made the world suck more than normal.

"So what about my offer McCall?" Bobby turned to find Cain and his cronies standing in an alley.

"Go to hell," the boy muttered, in no mood to deal with these idiots. "If I'm gonna do shit in this town, I do it myself. No one tells me what to do."

One of the cronies leered at the boy, "Maybe if we pay a visit to that pretty little lady who's watching you, you would reconsider."

Bobby saw red. He had not felt himself moving, but he found himself in the midst of the group, fighting like a demon out of hell. He had caught the group in surprise, allowing him to take down a few of them before they started fighting back.

Bobby had caught a few nasty blows to the ribs before he had managed to catch Cain in the face. Blood gushed from the ring leader's nose; he had broken it with one hit. Even in his frenzied state, he felt pretty good about the feat.

"You'll pay for that," Cain muttered as he rapidly moved out of the alley, taking those still able to move quickly.

Bobby stood there, watching them run. He would have to deal with that quickly, those types would continue thinking they could control anyone. But now, he had to get back to Evelyn's house for dinner.

Evelyn was already in the kitchen when he returned.

"Bobby, would you mind going to the corner store and getting me some sugar? I need it for dessert." Evelyn asked the boy as she moved to the door, grabbing her bag off a table near it. She pulled out a few bills as she glanced over at Bobby.

"Sure," Bobby sighed as he hauled himself off the couch. Then he stopped, "Why? Never had dessert before."

Evelyn smirked, "We are having cake." It grew into a full smile at his confusion, "Birthday cake." She patted him on the shoulder, "Go on now, I have a surprise for you when you get back."

With one last suspicious look, Bobby headed out the door and down the street. He could not help but feel that something was off as he walked. The street was too quite, but he could feel eyes on his back. One of the local undercover cop cars was slowly pulling up behind him, but he paid it little mind. After all, he had not done anything to worry about.

A few feet before the store, Bobby saw a rubber ball roll out onto the pavement. A small pink streak went zipping after the ball, not noticing the car moving toward the area. Bobby, without thinking, moved quickly to grab the little girl before she ran out in front of the car.

The boy had enough time to see the ball explode under the car's tire before rough hands grabbed him from behind, forcing him against the cold metal of the undercover car, "Trying to attack little kids? Did you see that Davis? He tried to throw that kid in front of the car."

"Yeah," Davis said, smirking at the boy.

"What the hell? That's bull!" Bobby felt his hands clench, wishing to show these bastards who they were messing with. He could already feel his ribs screaming against the rough movements.

"Mr. Cain sends his regard kid," the cops laughed at him as they pushed him into the back of the car roughly. "Should have taken his offer kid, now we will make your life a living hell."

* * *

"Get off me!" Bobby growled, trying to get a hit in on the cop. The cuffs restricted him too much to get any good moves.

A stiff blow to the back of his head made him see stars, "Shut the hell up you lil' bitch. You think you can pull this shit on my streets and get away with it?"

"Your wife seemed to enjoy my shit." Bobby was rewarded with a fist in his jaw.

The cop pushed him forward into one of the holding cells, slamming the door shut behind the boy. Sending a venomous smirk at the boy, the officer left. Bobby shrugged as he made himself comfortable. Home sweet home, he chuckled.

Angry voices drew his attention to the doorway leading out. Bobby caught a glimpse of golden hair before he could hear what was going on.

"And you did not think to call me, his guardian?" Bobby blinked; he had never heard Evelyn pissed before. He could not see her face, but her words spoke volumes.

"This is serious Ms. Mercer. He is being charged with assault, attempted murder-"

"You will stop right there sir," the steel in Evelyn's voice could have sank a ship to the bottom of Lake Michigan. "I know Bobby and I can say that he did not do this."

"We have witnesses Ms. Mercer, and with his record-"

"Bull-shit," she cut him off, "I know that Bobby was not attacking children. This is a false charge. And I know you have no evidence, so you will either have to release him or I will have a lawyer down here so fast you won't know what hit you."

Bobby stared at the little woman; no one had ever done that for him. Stood up and stated his innocence, even the few times when he had not caused the trouble. And right then, she was the fiercest woman he had ever seen.

The cop grumbled, but complied. He swung the door open, allowing Bobby out. One dirty look was the only reply that Bobby had expected and got, leaving the two to make their own way out of the cell block.

Evelyn stood for a moment, looking over Bobby's injuries, "Well, I would seem to be an exiting day."

A twinkle came to Bobby's eye as he smiled tautly, feeling the bruised jaw throb, "Yeah, gotta love it."

Laughter filled the air as they stepped out of the police station. The two moved to Evelyn's car before she turned to the boy, "Since this mess happened before you came home, I never got to give you your birthday presents."

"Presents?" God, this woman is impossible to predict, Bobby thought as he watched her open the trunk.

A large party bag was handed to the boy, "Here."

Curious, Bobby reached into the bag. In his hands was a pair of brand new roller blades, slightly bigger then he needed. Bobby loved them instantly, but something else had caught his eye. An envelope sat at the bottom of the bag. Glancing at Evelyn for some hint of what this was, Bobby pulled it out and looked over the papers inside.

Adoption papers, she had placed his adoption papers in the envelope.

If someone had asked Bobby later, he would strenuously deny that he had grabbed Evelyn in a hug, the skates forgotten on the ground.

* * *

A few weeks later, Cain had walked into an abandoned house he used for a base of operation. He kicked at some debris, he had tried to get to that McCall kid and still there was nothing. Bobby had evaded the two cops he had on payroll, and any men he sent ended up in the hospital.

"Some people," An amused voice called from inside the main room, "Just too stupid."

Cain was knocked into a chair too quickly for him to react. His hands were bound to the chair with tape. There, before him, stood the McCall kid.

And a gas can.

"McCall, you are making a big mistake."

Bobby grinned, sending shivers down Cain's spine, "Mercer. I'm Bobby Mercer now, and it's about time you learn who the hell you're messin with."

* * *

Jerry is a coming. As soon as I decide what is wrong with him that he needed to end up at Evelyn's.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, I finally decided what to do with Jerry, and it is terribly clichéd

Well, I finally decided what to do with Jerry, and it is terribly clichéd. Of course, I was thinking of using it for Angel too. Yes, I am horribly uncreative and I apologize. I will go hide in the corner now, enjoy.

* * *

The constant fidgeting coming from the passenger seat was beginning to annoy the woman driving. The boy was thin for a thirteen year old, to the point of being unhealthy. Blood shot brown eyes stared at nothing as they reminded an onlooker of a doll's glass eyes.

"Jeremiah, I really hope you think about your actions. This woman is one of the best people I have ever met," the social worker could see the boy from the corner of her eye, he had not moved, not showing any interest in what the woman said.

She shook her head as she watched the road, "Just try to stay clean for more then a few days this time."

Despite appearances, Jerry was listening to the social worker. It had been a long couple of weeks while Jeremiah had been in rehab. It had been hell and had stretched out into eternity as the drugs had fought to remain in control.

And it had not been his first trip into the clinic for drug addiction, and he doubted that it would be the last.

Drugs had hit the boy young, he now no longer remembered if it had been one of the foster siblings of a foster parent who had introduced him to the dark path of dependence. It really did not matter to him now, it only mattered that he continued what that forgotten person had started.

It was a combination of the drugs, lies and thefts that made every foster home cast him out. No one had the patients to straighten him out, and as he heard from countless sources around him, no one had the strength to help him. Jerry did not know or care, his life was drugs and nothing would change that.

"Jeremiah, are you listening?" the social worker snapped.

Jerry turned toward her, eyes wide, "Huh?"

She sighed, "This is the Mercer house," turning off the engine the woman gave the boy a serious look, "Since you're listening now, I'll say this again. Evelyn is a wonderful woman and you are lucky to be here. Try to act somewhat respectable."

The woman he assumed was Evelyn stood waiting on the stoop. Smiling warmly at the boy, she offered her hand to him. For such a little woman, Jerry got the impression of willfulness triple her size.

Clasping his hand in hers, Evelyn took in Jerry's appearance, "I am happy to meet you Jeremiah."

"Evelyn, I have a few papers that need signed," the social worker pulled up behind the two, holding a leaflet.

Smiling sweetly, Evelyn gave Jerry's hand one last pat, "You go ahead into the house dear, this should only take a minute."

Nodding, Jerry grabbed his bag and heading into his new residence. Not a home, but a place none the less.

It really is nice, he thought, glancing around.

A loud crash made Jerry jump and glance at the ceiling; someone was barreling around the upper levels. Faint cusses floated down the stairs. The boy half wondered what sort of mess was being made up there by whoever was making the racket. Hearing someone step in behind him, Jerry glanced back at Evelyn for some clue as to who was the mystery housemate.

"That would be Bobby," Evelyn chuckled as loud thuds sounded from above the two. This still left the boy in the dark, he really wished now that he had listened to the social worker's rambling. Clear curses floated down the staircase, "Bobby, language!"

It was then that a boy a little older than Jerry came barreling down the stairs. The boy was a couple inches shorter than Jerry, with dark brown hair. Jerry blinked as Bobby dashed into the kitchen with a quick, "Sorry Ma"

Evelyn looked fondly at the doorway leading to the kitchen, "If you slow down a minute dear, you would see we have a new guest."

Bobby stuck his head out of the kitchen, and took a quick look at Jerry. He disappeared into the kitchen once more, finishing whatever he had started and stepped into the living room fully. Jerry fought hard to keep himself from fidgeting at the hard appraisal of the older boy. The guy was giving him the same look foster fathers gave since him since hitting puberty, seeing if he was a threat.

Suddenly, Jerry glared at the shorter boy. _Why should I be threatened by you?_ Jerry thought angrily, _you're not the man of the house_.

With a twinkle in her eye, Evelyn cut through the hostility, "If you two are done glowering, we can have a civilized breakfast."

"I gotta game," Bobby smirked at Jerry, turning back to the kitchen. "I'll be back latter Ma!" Bobby rushed out of the house, toast in hand.

"He's a good boy," Evelyn turned to Jerry, "He is just a bit territorial."

"Like a bear," Jerry mumbled under his breath.

But Evelyn had caught it and laughed, patting the boy on the shoulder, "You'll do fine. Now let's show you to your room."

* * *

Everything had been set up in Jerry's new room before Evelyn had rushed to work. 'His room', it was odd for him to say that. It had always been 'their room', having to share with the other kids of the household. The woman had even said that she would take him out later that week to get some personal affects to make the room more 'cozy'.

But still, drugs were the main focus of his thoughts. He wanted them, needed them, and dreamed of having more of them.

"If you have anything you don't want Ma to find, I suggest you just throw it out," Jerry shot up from his position on the bed. He had not heard Bobby open his door.

Again, that smug look irritated Jerry beyond belief, "Why? I know how to hide things."

Scoffing, Bobby walked into the room and started looking at the meager possessions as if he owned the place, "She's psychic."

"Right."

"Eh, you'll see," turning to leave, Bobby paused, "And I ain't stupid, think about that before you try to pull something." With those last words, he was gone.

* * *

A few days passed uneventfully, Jerry spent them prowling the streets and adjusting. Every so often he found himself dipping a hand into Evelyn's purse, but he never stopped himself. As bad a he felt stealing from her, the need was stronger. He was careful about it though, buying small portions while he was sure Bobby's watchful eye was not on him. Jerry did not use it though; the small scores would do no more then a little buzz. He planned to wait till the stash was big enough, till then he hid the rest in the back of his closet in hidden compartment he built into a shoe box.

Jerry closed the door securely, making sure no one would wander in behind him. Casting a shaky glance around the room, he made his way toward the closet in a half daze. Nothing mattered but what lay hidden in the depths of the darkened space. His entire body ached for just a taste, to satisfy the burning need.

But he found that nothing resided inside the closet except old sneakers.

"I flushed that shit," a voice Jerry had grown to dislike sounded from the doorway. There stood Bobby, leaning against the frame, smirking at the enraged expression which the dark skinned boy was throwing at him.

Jerry jumped to his feet, "You bastard, where is it!"

"It's with the sewer gators and the piss." Bobby shrugged, pushing off to stand erect.

Moving faster then he ever had, Jerry grabbed the front of the Red Wings sweat shirt. And still that smirk was firmly in place, "No! I know you have it! You know how much that was?!"

"And where did it come from, Ma's purse?" he had phrased it as a question, but the cold glint in his eye made it clear that Bobby already knew the answer. A corner of his mind still left untouched by the Need screamed danger, but the scream for drugs overpowered his common sense.

"What the fuck do y' know about it?" Jerry's hand shook around the red cloth, "I need it! And I'll just get more some other way!!"

"Not in this house you're not," Bobby's voice was steely, his eyes just as cold, "You don't steal from Ma."

_I should really back down_, that little voice was growing more insistent yet he still kept playing this dangerous game, "Why should I care?"

It was not a surprise when the fist collided with his jaw. Anyone with half a brain could realize that messing with a wild card like Bobby would lead to injury; but then again, who ever said that Jerry was smart all of the time.

"Next time I catch you with this junk in the house, I won't go easy on ya." And seeing those eyes, darker then any he had ever seen, Jerry believed those words.

* * *

Evelyn looked up as Jerry stumbled into the kitchen. The woman gestured at the table with her spatula before turning back to the scrambled eggs. An ice pack sat waiting for his throbbing eye.

_She really is psychic_, Jerry thought, "How?"

"I have been around some," Evelyn laughed, turning the eggs. "You two should not fight so much; my house will not take it." Glancing over at him, a smile on her lips and no sympathy in her voice, she said, "He went easy on you, and I want you to realize that before your next tryst."

His cheek wanted to say otherwise but according to talk on the streets, she was right, "So, am I in trouble?"

Turning the heat to a low simmer, Evelyn turned her full attention her foster son, "I think Bobby believes he is the one who decides that," she shook her head, "But no, you're not in trouble.

"I do want you to realize that I do not like drugs in my house Jeremiah."

_I am done for, she is throwing me out, _the boy kept his eyes glued to the floor, _and damn it I actually liked it here. Even with that idiot. _

Cool fingers slid under his chin, compelling those dark eyes to meet Evelyn's gaze, "You never have to feel like you are being looked down on in this house son."

She knocked his forehead lightly with a finger before turning back to the stove. Turning the flame off, she filled two plates while leaving enough for the missing member of the family.

"I've seen enough victims of addiction to know that it will never fully go away, the cravings," placing Jerry's plate beside him, she took the seat across from him, "It is something you have to live with and overcome. We will help all we can."

A spark of hope began to form at those words, "You-"

Placing a hand over his, Evelyn smiled, "When I was younger, we had a lovely tree house in the backyard." She watched the boy's head tilt in confusion, "maybe it would be nice to have a project to keep your mind and hands preoccupied. I just happen to have a book on constructing tree houses in the shelves."

"Thanks, I think."

* * *

Kay, I really feel that Jer did not get much personality in this chapter. But I did feel it was better that way, coming off drugs as he was. I am half way through the next chapter and he gets much more depth, I promise.

Coming up next, bonding over scary movies.


	4. Chapter 4

The muse for this chapter hit in the middle of working on the previous one

The muse for this chapter hit in the middle of working on the previous one. But the thing that stood in the way of this is the little fact that I dislike horror movies. So I went with the obvious alternative, B-movie horror baby! Bruce Campbell, you're my hero.

* * *

_Ring. Ring, damn you. Ring, ring- _Jerry stared hard at the cracked old clock hanging over the class like a shinning get out of jail free pass. The day had been too long; one of those muggy autumn days, on the verge of a storm, which dragged onward like a slug. Yet the seconds hand was defying the expectations of earth logic, slowing down just to spite the boy. _I swear to God that if that thing doesn't ring soon, I'm making a run for it._

Finally the bell gave up on its torturous pace and rang; a sound of sweet, sweet liberation. Jerry was out of his seat and through the door as quickly as the others. A few kids who Jerry had befriended since starting school called out. Jerry waved them off as he weaved through the crowd in order to get out faster. To be fair, Jerry was not just in a rush to escape the soul crushing concrete prison of learning. There was another problem that Jerry had no desire to deal with.

"Bite anyone today, sparky?"

"Shut up man. I really don't need your shit," Jerry glared at the smaller boy, but not as heated as it had been when the two had first met. While the boys were not friends, they had formed a sort of truce after the drug incident.

Jerry simply could not figure out how to feel about Bobby. The older boy still acted like he was the man of the house, and acted as if his few extra years made him a man of the world. Plus the guy lived to embrace Jerry, going out of his way to tease and play pranks. Just the other day Jerry had woken up to find his head and eyebrows shaven, and a rude gesture scribbled on top of his skull. It had drove Jerry crazy trying to figure out how Bobby had done it without waking him up.

But the kid was not all bad. The two had a common interest in hockey, playing a pickup game now and then as well as cheering on the Redhawks. The young Mercer was not as stupid as he seemed most of the time; Jerry had found that out quickly. Bobby was quick on his feet, forming and changing plans as obstacles came up. Jerry had noticed that a few of the kids in the system who came from bad situations had the same way of thinking. Not that Jerry was stupid; he just never had to learn this survival mechanism.

And though he hated to admit it, Jerry could see Bobby as an older brother type. The teasing was nonstop, but it was never as sever as he had seen others in the homes get. No permanent harm was ever part of the pranks, though the teasing and nicknames would probably last as long as Jerry was in the same house. Plus, that protective streak in Bobby could be endearing, if somewhat annoying. It was made very clear that no one in their neighborhood should sell drugs to the newest face in the Mercer home. All for the better Jerry guessed, there had been times when he would have sold his soul for a score. He supposed that he always would, and having a force of nature like Bobby making him stay clean was a good thing. But it was after an incident with a group of rednecks that Jerry saw just how protective Bobby was. He had not been there himself, but rumors had painted a rather painful picture.

When Jerry had asked why, Bobby had given him a look, "No one messes with the Mercers. If you live here, you're considered one too."

A sudden flash caused Jerry to stop his musing. The heavy clouds overhead began to open, trickling warning shots before the storm that had been building all day.

"Shit," Bobby muttered, glancing up. "So much for Tommy Gennis in the park. That dick owes me twenty."

With the exception of Bobby's glowering, the two traveled home in silence. By the time they reached the house, the storm had come to full life. Water cascaded from the sky as if Lake Michigan itself was falling on their heads. Racing, the boys dashed through the door. As soon as they passed the inner doorway, drenched in icy water, the race began to get up the stairs first. They began pushing each other to get ahead, falling back to dirty tricks if needed. Bobby won, grabbing Jerry's foot and pulling him down the stairs to give Bobby the seconds needed to claim the bathroom.

"Bobby! That wasn't fair!" Jerry slammed his fist against the door. It was a futile attempt but he still tried. Laughter drifted through the door until the sound of the shower drowned it out. Stomping toward his room, Jerry muttered, "I hope you slip on the soap."

* * *

Evelyn sighed as she reclined back into her chair, rubbing fatigue from her eyes. She loves her job with every fiber of her being, but the stream of paperwork could be straining on one's sight.

"Oh Eve, you put us to shame," a petite redhead at the next desk waved at the vast stacks of manila folders dominating most of the desk.

Evelyn smiled, "No, no, I just have more stamina," she waved at pictures which claimed the only free space of her desk, "I get a lot of practice at home."

They were all shots of Bobby and Jerry, though the pictures of Bobby had a few more then the younger boy. Most of them were candid shots taken while the boys were unaware. Some pictures were taken during sports, or hanging out around the house, with Bobby's pictures always being the more violent or overbearing.

While Evelyn looked upon these photos with affection, the other woman saw trouble, "You are a saint Evelyn; I could never have tamed a boy like that."

Evelyn's eyes gleamed with good humor in a way that only Evelyn could, laughing but never making a person feel insulted, "I did no such thing. Bobby is a force, there is no changing that. All he needed was love and some responsibility," shifting a folder into the finished pile Evelyn continued, "And Jerry just needed an older brother."

The woman looked uncertain at Evelyn's confidence. She had read the files for the boys and was not as optimistic as Evelyn. In her experience, kids like these did not end up being normal members of society. True some could do great things; she had seen a few come out alright. But somehow, at least with Bobby, she knew that nothing good could come from him.

Changing the subject, she asked, "So what are they up to tonight?

* * *

"Oh, hell yeah!" Bobby crowed, watching the zombie spurt out a milky substance and blood.

"Man, that's gross as hell," Jerry smirked at the B-movie gore. "Common, chop her up! Don't just stand there!"

Bobby grabbed a handful of popcorn, "Is this too much for ya sweetheart? Don't want you having nightmares on me."

"Screw you Bobby," Jerry muttered, keeping his eyes on the screen.

They turned their attention back toward the television as the main character moved toward the cellar door. Both boys had edged forward, waiting for whatever was coming. Just as the zombie's hands burst out the floorboards, the lights went dark. The screams which followed cut through the house like a knife.

"God, you're such a pussy," Bobby jumped off the couch, brushing the popcorn which had been thrown onto him by a stray foot.

Jerry glared at the older boy's silhouette, "Says the guy who screamed like a girl."

Bobby threw a kernal in Jerry's general direction, "That was a manly grunt of surprise." Walking over to the window, Bobby peered out into the darkened street. Most of the neighborhood was just as dark as their house. "Shit, someone must of hit a pole or somethin'."

Jerry shook his head and got off the couch. Making his way slowly, careful to feel for the coffee table, he made his way toward the kitchen. "Doesn't Evelyn keep a flashlight on the fridge?"

"Yeah, _Ma _stashes them around," as always, Bobby seemed to take it as a personal offense when Jerry did not refer to Evelyn as their mother, "Some candles too, though where that woman keeps the matches."

"Right, and have the whole house burnt down around us," Jerry spat.

"I only singed your stupid book. Why you still bitching about it?"

"I- ARH, DAMN IT!" Jerry clutched his calf. He had struck his leg roughly into the shelves beside the door. Still swearing, he tried to ignore Bobby's laughter.

A sudden noise caused both boys to become silent. Jerry turned to where he knew the staircase was, that sound had come from the upper level. _That sounds like a window closing_, Jerry thought nervously.

"What the hell," Bobby's voice was sharp enough to pierce rock. The boy turned toward the steps and began to make his way up. Jerry took a moment to find the flashlight before following the older boy up.

A few seconds behind Bobby's thundering tread, Jerry switched the light on. It was strange how darkness makes familiar surroundings look like some freaky haunted house. Nothing in this semi-foreign landscape seemed out of order. Jerry was beginning to think that they had imagined the sound, or something had fallen.

Another crash sounded from behind Jerry's door. The room's owner hesitated, not sure if he wanted to know what was in there. Bobby, on the other hand, pulled the door open with a crash. He charged in, but no robbers were standing inside, or some creature of the night.

Jerry tried flipping the lights on, flicking on for a moment. In that instant of sight, a horrible figure swooped down from the ceiling. The bat swooped toward Bobby, hell bent on blood.

"SHIT!" Bobby dived, hugging the floor.

The lights failed again, sending the room into darkness. But the screeching of the bat continued, as the sound of its wings raced around their heads. A hard slap of a wing against his cheek made Jerry drop the flashlight. The traitorous thing rolled under the bed, casting just enough light to make the room dance with shadows instead of pitch black.

Dashing for the bed, Jerry dragged a cover over his head. Once he was protected in his cotton cocoons, he started toward the closet. The bat screeched from a spot on the ceiling, "Get something to smash it!"

Jerry had to duck as a shoe went flying from Bobby's direction, "What you think I'm looking for!"

Pushing boxes around, Jerry found the bat and came out swinging. "Damn it Jer, watch it!"

"Sorry man," Jerry squinted at the shadows. Everything was melding into one another until he could barely make out the outline of Bobby, let alone the little bat.

The lights overhead flicked into existence. Jerry had a moment of relief when the bat swooped toward him. Through instinct, Jerry swung forward wildly in an attempt to kill the menace. Instead of throwing the creature to its messy death against a wall, the force sent the creature spiraling. Regain its balance; the bat flew right out a window they had not noticed was open. Bobby, holding a hockey stick, joined Jerry in staring at the window in stunned silence.

The door downstairs creaked open, "Boys', I'm home!" Evelyn called from the door.

The boys stared at each other, glanced at the window that the bat had escaped through, and back again. Bobby broke the shocked silence, muttering, "We never speak of this again, got it?"

Jerry nodded mutely as he dropped his protective cover. The sooner this was forgotten, the better.

* * *

Sorry for the wait, my friends. Crappy month, crappy mood, crappy health. But on the positive side, I do now own both Evil Dead and Evil Dead II. That makes me very happy. So bust out those chainsaws, cause Angel is coming to town.

Groovy.


	5. Chapter 5

I LIVE! Sorry for whatever fans stayed with this, a lot of things happening all at once kept me from you. Ya know what, I blame Leverage for taking up too much room in my mind.

Darn you Christain Kane and your awsomeness! He's almost as awsome as Bobby.

* * *

Evelyn slid out of her car, her dark dress swishing silently against her legs. She was able to pull off a fresh appearance, one that did not actually exist beyond a bit of makeup and some stiff coffee. It had been a rough night in the Mercer household. An emergency call had kept Evelyn out till almost two in the morning. Upon arriving home to an empty house, Evelyn spent another hour tracking down Jerry and Bobby, both of whom were being held at the police station for a rather nasty fight. Bobby had a dislocated shoulder while Jerry was sporting a bloody nose and a loose tooth.

But they were both fine, and now the only thing that mattered was the boy who waited inside the quaint house before her. The house was cleaner and sharper then her own house, everything was as close to perfection that Evelyn had ever seen. After ringing the bell, an older woman opened the door. Her dark face was pinched with strain, though she still pulled off a dignified air that matched the strictly kept home.

When she entered the house, Evelyn clasped the older woman's hand, "Mrs. Hark, what can I do for you?"

"I have had it with that boy. He is impossible," Mrs. Hark muttered as she stood perfectly erect. From her stance, Evelyn felt her stomach drop a notch.

Evelyn could not help but think that this would not be easy, "I realize that Angel is a little difficult, but he's a good boy once you get to know him. He simply needs to feel safe enough to form a bond with you and your family."

"He lies; he cheats kids out of their stuff. And the way he talks, I don't want him around my daughter," there was no sign of regret in the woman's words. Evelyn did not sigh, though she was tempted. It was a conversation that she had heard from many foster parents who did not want to be bothered by the troubled kids.

Never the less, Evelyn tried her best to change Mrs. Hark's mind. She pointed out the wonderful qualities that the boy possessed, ones which a nurturing hand could bring out with patience and love. Gently reminding the woman that a boy who had been found wondering the streets at a young age like Angel had would have to find ways to ensure survival, even in a good home. But it was in vain, the woman was set on removing the boy. It broke Evelyn's heart when a placement did not work. These children needed to know that they were not expendable. And each time they were removed the idea that they were worthless grew inside like a gaping hole until it swallowed their futures and in many cases, their lives.

"May I speak to him? Perhaps I can see what we can do to make the situation easier," Evelyn offered. But it was not meant to be, the blank stare she received was enough to assure Evelyn of that.

Moving into the living room, Evelyn saw the boy scrawled across a chair. The boy lived up to his name in appearance. To look at him one would not see anything but a cute boy, too innocent to be any trouble. Which was part of the problem of placing him, families took him in with a false impression. When he started the con work, the families could not get rid of him fast enough.

And the boy knew it too; he already had his things packed into a dingy duffle bag, "Hey lady," the boy called with a lazy wave.

"Hello Angel," Evelyn smiled as the boy got up. She had only been handling the boy's case for a year now, after his former social worker retired. But it was hard to see this bright young man be passed around when all he needed was a steady home.

* * *

Bobby was not sulking, and if Jerry said he was again the kid was going to see what Bobby could do with one arm. Glaring at the television, the boy slouched into the cushions. The damn sling was tossed on the back of the couch, were it would stay until Evelyn came back. Jerry dropped onto the chair next to Bobby, flaunting the sandwich and can of soda he had refused to get for the older boy.

Bobby smirked at the other boy. A great thing about having a younger boy around was having someone to torment, "Jer, go grab me a beer upstairs."

"Screw you, get it yourself," Jerry ignored him, studying his sandwich before taking a bite.

Bobby kicked Jerry's knee, "Go get me a beer."

Jerry moved out of Bobby's reach, "And I said screw you."

"I realize I'm damn sexy, but maybe you should find yourself a nice boyfriend. Course, we'll have to make an honest woman of ya . . ." Bobby mused.

The younger boy growled. Grabbing a coaster, Jerry threw it at Bobby, "Prick. If you didn't have that shoulder, I'd kick your ass."

"You'd try," a smug look crossed the older boy's face. The sound of the lock turning kept the two from going for the other's throat.

"Boys, I'm home," Evelyn called as she stepped into the house. Jerry had the gull to give the other boy a triumphant look. Sliding down the armrest, Bobby delivered another kick to the abused knee. With a grunt, Jerry hauled himself and his snack to the seat next to the television.

Bobby smirked before pulling the sling on with a groan before Evelyn saw he was ignoring the doctor's order, "Hey Ma."

Glancing at the boys on her way to the kitchen, Evelyn asked, "What did the doctor say about keeping that sling on?"

Bobby grunted, readjusting the strap on the sling, "I've had bad shoulders before,"

"I know," was all Evelyn offered. There was no accusation in the woman's voice, just a hint of humor that made Bobby smirk.

Jerry noticed the groceries Evelyn was carrying, "Need help?" he offered, abandoning his food.

"Such a good daughter," Bobby cackled as he reached across the table, grabbing the sandwich.

* * *

Evelyn read through the file again, trying to find an answer that would be in Angel's best interest. The boy had been found wandering the streets when he was six years old. He would not say anything more than his name; no address, no last name, no parents. When no missing person report was filed, the boy had fallen into the system's cracks. In many ways, the boy had never left the streets.

He knew how to use his charming looks, which Evelyn was sure, would always serve him in his lies. But there was also a rage to the boy that his quiet personality hid well. She had seen it in his eyes, as she had seen it in Bobby the first time they had met. But Angel had more control then Bobby had, before her eldest had come to her.

All Angel needed was a positive figure to help him, Evelyn mused as she went through the file's pages. Someone to be looked up to, an older brother maybe.

Evelyn smiled, closing the file. It had worked before, why not now?

* * *

Angel strolled down the street, hands thrust deep into his jacket pockets. It did not matter to him that he was not intimidating, having only started on a growth spurt. His appearance was a weapon, making his work easier. No one saw it coming, that a kid like him would be a threat in a fight or to whatever valuables Angel was after.

In fact, Angel already had food he had swiped from a few stores in his pocket. These small foodstuffs were nestled among gold chains and watches he had conned from a few of the posers around the neighborhood. He would eat the food eventually, while the bling would end up in a pawn shop.

"You think you can get away with that shit pretty boy?" Angel turned instinctively, expecting one of the rich kids he had tricked out of something. Instead, the boy saw a group of older kids gather outside of the high school a few buildings down.

The crowd was gathered in front of one of the yellow school buses that haunted the schools during sport events. The teens were gathered into a ring around two boys. One was a lanky Hispanic boy dressed in a jersey, taunting the other. Angel watched the other boy, a white kid on the short side who was dressed in a hoodie and faded jeans, and looked like he was favoring one shoulder.

It was that one that caught Angel's attention. From years on the streets, Angel could tell when someone was full of themselves, and when they could be a real threat. It was a good sense to have, though he did not always listen to it. And he could tell that the hoodie teen was going to win this fight, even with a messed up shoulder. From the jeers of the crowd, they did not see the danger in the shorter boy.

And what sort of self respecting grifter would he be if Angel passed up on an opportunity like this?

Putting on an almost innocent look, with enough mischief into his look to make his plan work, Angel walked over to the group. The crowd was charged with anticipation for the fight. Most of the kids in the group wore the same colors as the taller teen. A few kids in different colors were leaning against the bus; they would not get involved unless the fight turned into a free for all.

Angel waited until the short teen looked ready to throw a punch before he started, "Wow, I bet that guy's gonna take the stick."

This drew the attention of the teens standing around him. This was the fun part for Angel, playing the saps for what they were worth, "Andy is the best fighter in school, kid."

"Bet ya twenty bucks," Angel knew exactly how smug he could act without getting his ass kicked. The older boys rose to the occasion, sure of some easy money.

Angel's face was passive as the bets were set down. The others almost missed the short boy throw a solid punch to the tall boy's jaw. The sound of flesh hitting flesh drew the boys' attention back to the fighters.

The show was done fast. Angel had been right to guess that the shorter boy was out of other's league. The two rushed forward, fists swinging. The taller boy landed a lucky shot on the others bad shoulder. The boy went down for a moment, allowing the taller boy to land a few solid hits. This only made the other boy angrier. The moment he regained his footing, he came back with a savage rage. A few powerful hits insured that the taller boy stayed down.

Shock rippled through the ring of spectators. Angel jumped forward, collecting his winnings while the shock kept the others from denying the win. The money was safely in the boy's pocket and he was fifteen steps away when the yelling began. Just as he had seen who would win, Angel knew that the all out brawl would be coming next, once the shock wore off.

"You little shit," one of the guys grabbed Angel, "You think ya can con me?"

Angel gave a dazzling smile before he wrenched away from the grasp. The smile disappeared as Angel dropped low, landing a punch to the soft midsection. When the older kid doubled over, Angel moved forward, dragging the guy's head down to meet Angel's knee.

Ignoring the adrenalin singing in his veins, Angel moved away from the fight. As much as he wanted to join, he had places to be.

* * *

Evelyn entered the group home at the same time Angel arrived. The boy looked slightly flustered before he replaced the look with an unconcerned glance. His social worker had to marvel at the boy's acting skills.

"Angel, wonderful timing," Evelyn smiled as she pulled the door open. She allowed the child to walk in before her, "How about we sit down and talk?"

The two walked into the dingy building, side by side. A few places had new paint in spots were some graffiti had been covered. Despite the effort, more spray paint materialized only inches away from each attempted removal. It was not long before they reached the uncomfortable little meeting room that most service personnel used. But Evelyn kept walking toward the recreation room.

"I think this will be better than that crusty room."

"Whatever," Angel shrugged, but Evelyn saw that he preferred the new arrangement. "So, what's gonna happen here?"

"Right now? I thought we'd talk a little bit, maybe get some sandwiches from the cafeteria."

A shadow of a smile crossed Angel's face. The boy suppressed the gesture while he asked, "Am I stayin', goin'?"

"What do you want?" Evelyn asked, glancing at the boy. When Angel shrugged, the woman had to smile. She could just imagine how much trouble this boy could cause when he met her force of nature son.

"I have an idea for you." Evelyn's smile transformed, coming close to being a knowing smirk. The boy before her looked unsure of what to make of this change.

* * *

"Boys, I have someone for you to meet"

Angel watched as two boys entered the room. The first was a lanky, dark skinned boy who walked down the stairs. The other made Angel pause. The white teen stepping out of the kitchen, a sling on his arm, was the one from the fight earlier that day.

"This is Angel," Evelyn placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "He'll be staying with us for a while. This is Jeremiah," she motioned with her other hand toward the boy.

"Hey man," Jerry nodded.

Evelyn gave Jerry an appreciated look, "An this," Angel noted the fondness in the woman's voice rose when she turned toward the fighter, "is Bobby. You'll be staying with us for a while."

Bobby stared hard at the younger boy before snorting, "Another stray."

"Bobby," the fondness did not leave her voice, even with the disapproval in her tone. "I'll leave you boys to talk while I whip something up for dinner."

Angel watched as Bobby moved out of the woman's way. The teen turned toward Angel, "There's a few rules ya should know."

Jerry chuckled as he shook his head, "There he goes with the bullshit."

Bobby glared before he turned back to the newest resident of the Mercer home, "First, you do anything to hurt her and I will make you feel it."

Angel glared into Bobby's stony eyes, trying to gage how he could take him down if it ever came to them fighting. Bobby seemed to know what was going through his mind because the guy smirked, cockiness practically oozing out of his face.

"Second; no drugs in the house. I don't giva shit about outside but not under this roof."

Jerry made a choking noise from behind Angel. Glancing back, Angel saw him fighting down a laugh. He could swear he heard Jerry mutter, "Yeah right."

Bobby did not glance back at Jerry, "And third," Angel found when the young man put out his palm up hand, "If you bet on me, I get half."

* * *

So, yeah. Sorry for the wait again. Blame that dastardly villains called writers block and bad luck. I may put out a one shot chapter for Jack, since I know a lot of people want him bad. . . That sounds real dirty.

If you want it, mention it and you shall receive. It is pretty much written so if I do, it will be up quick. Rock on my people, rock on.


	6. Chapter 6

Ha-ha! I finally wrote a chapter that was not overpowered with Bobby. Since I thought that the world lacked Angel and Jack bonding, I made them the center of this. I'm so proud.

Anyways, this chapter would be set after Jack had been around for a while. I will have Jackie joining the family latter, maybe in around four or five more chapters. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Jack really, really, wanted to do nothing more at that moment then to crawl in a hole and die.

Well maybe not die, since he was sure that if something so trivial lead to his demise, his brothers would dig him up and smack him around for being stupid. But still, he did not want to be here.

Jack slouched into his chair, hoping that he would disappear into the stiff cushions. It was odd, but Jack had never spent much time in a principal office over the years. Mostly he could have been found in the nurse's office, for whatever injury he had received from a bully or the marks he had hidden under baggy clothing. Though now he did not deal with much of either. Since coming to the Mercer household, he never had to worry about being abused. The worst he had to worry about was one of his brothers drawing on him with marker while he slept and the usual hockey mishaps. It was also his brothers who made sure that the local bullies never dared lay a finger on him.

"Mr. Mercer is there anyone at your house?" the secretary snapped. Jack sank deeper into his seat at her glare, nodding mutely. Bobby had just come home from finishing the hockey season the night before. Oh crap, Jack stiffened, Bobby was coming. His older brother, his incredibly overprotective oldest brother, was coming to pick him up.

God, someone really hates him.

"Jackie?" Jack turned to see Angel standing in the office door, craning his head in order to spot the kid.

The younger teen sighed; he had hoped Angel would not hear about this until Jack was safely home, where he could hide properly. No such luck it seemed, "Yeah Ang?"

Jack did not need to look at Angel to know that his big brother had spotted him. The quick intake of breath alerted him, "Damn man, what you do?"

Jack touched the rather large bruise on his cheek. Angel's proclamation forced Jack to remember his throbbing ribs, "I-"

The door to the inner office opened, letting the occupants enter the waiting area. The principal scowled at Jack, while he and the burly gym teacher pushed another teen out in front of them. The boy was a few years older than Jack and more than a few pounds heavier. This kid's appearance was worse than Jack, bruises decorated his face and arms and his gym clothes were ripped.

Angel flopped into the seat beside Jack, eyeing the disgruntled boy in approval. Noticing his brother stiffen, Angel threw an arm around the boy's shoulder. The group moved through a side door which would lead to the nurse in the adjacent room.

"So-what the hell Cracker Jack?" when Jack said nothing about the nickname, Angel worried, "Jack?"

Angel took a close look and cursed silently. He knew what the look Jack wore meant, that blank stare while his shoulders were taught like a bowstring. The kid had withdrawn into his head, like he did when he had first come to the family.

"Don't you have a class young man?" the secretary asked, watching the two.

"Study hall," Angel poured every ounce of charm he had into those two words. She was not impressed but turned back to her work. "So? Gonna talk or do I have ta drag it out of you?"

A very familiar look crossed Jack's face, the one which said he was going to be stupidly stubborn. It was better than the blank stare Jack normally fell back on, but still as annoying, "Bobby's gonna get it out of you anyway."

The boy fidgeted, staring at the floor. The kid did not look like a teenager, at the moment he reminded Angel of a little boy who was sure he had done the worst thing ever. If Angel had not been watching the boy, he would have missed the soft, "It's stupid."

"We're talking about you, course it's gonna be stupid," Angel smirked when Jack glared at him from under his shaggy bangs.

"That was John Tridder, the guy who transferred in a few weeks ago," Jack motioned to the nurse's door with a jerk of the chin. He waited a moment for some question that Angel did not ask. Despite his tendency to act more like Bobby, Angel did have a bit of tact. This was going to be hard enough on Jack without someone breaking his concentration.

Jack shifted, glancing at Angel before returning to studying the floor, "I only see him in gym, and I guess he thought I was a good prank target."

At this, Angel was unable to keep quiet, "And I never heard this?"

"I can take care of myself," Jack huffed, glaring at his brother. "I don't need my brothers to do my fighting."

Chuckling, Angel glanced at the nurse's office, "I saw that, and it was pretty sweet Jackie-boy."

For the first time since Angel had entered the office, Jack really looked at his brother. He smirked, "Yeah, glad you approve."

"So I know how this starts and how it ends, so what happened between?"

The grimace told Angel that the boy did not want to say anymore. But Jack was not with Jerry, who would have let it slide, "It wasn't anything that bad, just tripping or pushing me into the bleachers during basketball. It just got a little out of control."

It was very tempting to just go into that room and continue the work Jack had started on the Tridder kid. The kid had been through too much for some punk to target him. Angel did not know the details of Jack's life pre-Mercer, but he had seen the bruises that had decorated the boy. The skittishness, the silence, and the months of nightmares had caused a strong desire in each of the Mercer men to protect Jack.

"Mind explaining that 'out of control'?" Angel sighed, Jack was done talking and the look he was giving Angel promised something nasty in his sheets if he pushed. Angel had crossed that look before, in the end the covers had to be thrown out. No amount of cleaning was able to get the smell out of them. Angel had to wait till Bobby came to be back up.

"Let me see that eye," Angel ordered. While his brother looked at his battle scars, Jack replayed the event in his head.

* * *

Jack hustled into the locker room, making a beeline for the showers as the sound of the game followed him. The teacher had made an exception for Jack, allowing the teen to shower a few minutes before the rest of the class. The first and last time that Jack had been forced to shower with the rest of the group had not ended well. Jack had freaked out when someone had bumped him from behind. It had taken hours to him out of the showers.

Jack was dry and half dressed when the rest of the class bustled in.

"Hey fag, you think you're funny?" Tridder charged into the locker room. Most of the other boys moved out of the angry hulk's path. Jack glanced up as Tridder grabbed his bare shoulder, forcing the young Mercer against the wall.

Jack froze, the hand felt like a red hot iron against the skin of his shoulder. "You think you could make me look like an idiot! I'm gonna teach you a lesson about respect!"

Those words had never boded well for Jack, so many bad things had happened after those words. Something snapped inside of Jack, perhaps the memory caused by the words or the feeling of that hand, but suddenly Jack was on top of the bully. His fists flew wildly, striking at every inch they could reach. Tridder gave a quick gab to the ribs, but Jack did not feel the blow. The strikes continued to fall, filling the surprised locker room with strangled cries and the sound of each strike.

A scream ripped from Jack's throat as hands grabbed him, pulling him away. Nothing registered in Jack's mind except that the reason for his rage was no longer under him. He struggled to get back to the meat sack; to hit it again and again until his pain, rage and fear was poured out of him like hot blood against that soft surface.

A sharp slap across the face snapped Jack out of the violent haze. Another hit landed as his eyes focused on Mr. Crawford. A few of the boys still held onto the young Mercer in case he decided to jump the bully again. Astonished stares bore into Jack, everyone was shocked that the quiet boy had just attacked a person double his size.

"Mercer," Crawford shook him roughly, "Get dressed and to the principal."

Crawford waited until the boy gave a numb nod. He turned to grab the mess which was Tridder off the floor. Pulling the injured teen to his feet, he dragged the boy out of the locker room.

The other students let go and backed away. If Jack had been aware enough to notice the action, he would have laughed. Everyone looked at Jack as the docile Mercer, no saint but easier to deal with then the other three boys. But there he was, taking down a young man twice his size and three times in weight. Bobby would be proud.

"Dude," one of Jack's friends stared at him in awe, "That was freaking sweet!"

All Jack could do was nod. Grabbing his shirt from the bench, he pulled it on before following the coach's orders.

* * *

"Mercer, in," the principal ordered as soon as he had cleared the nurse's door. The frazzled man eyed the two brothers with a weary stare. It was apparent that this man had lived through three Mercer men passing through his office on a daily bases. "The younger Mercer."

Jack got up to follow the administrator into the office. Angel watched until the boy had almost reached the door, "I'm so proud. Baby boy finally joining the family traditions."

Jack threw a shaky smile over his shoulder before the door shut behind him, cutting off any escape.

"Sit," the principal motioned at the dingy old chairs in front of his desk. His file sat on top of a disarray of other papers. The name on the top of the file had been taped over, covering his old name with the hand written 'Mercer'.

"Young man, this is very serious," the words sounded as if he had said them countless times before, never to be taken seriously. This was probably true, especially with the Mercer boys. But he did watch Jack for his response. Bobby, in his days, would have lounged back into the seat, probably rest his feet on the table top, with a smirk and a wise crack. Jeremiah would have had the decency to appear to listen. Angel would act like he was sorry while he fished for whatever sympathy he could get for his case. Jack, on the other hand, would not look at him at all. The boy stared at the floor, hunched slightly so his growing figure became smaller.

"_My boys are special,"_ the man remembered Evelyn Mercer once saying during one of their many meetings. And despite the years that these boys had taken from his life expectancy, he did agree. It would be a long time before he forgot any of these kids.

"As you know, we have a strict policy about fighting on school property." When the boy did not move to respond, he sighed, "As it is, we will have to punish you for the offense. Usually, it would be a few weeks suspension, possibly even expulsion."

Again, the boy refused to even look up. The man shook his head; he had not expected this from a Mercer. It did gain the boy a bit of sympathy, "But, Mr. Tridder has also been involved in other altercations. Since this is the case, and it is your first time, I think that a three day suspension will do the trick." He glanced at the boy when he did not move after his decision, "Go."

Jack left as quickly as possible. He did not see the principal shaking his head before he returned to work. Outside of the office Bobby was standing rigidly while Angel continued to sit in his seat. The boy said nothing as he walked passed his brothers, eyes never leaving the ground.

* * *

Jack did not talk to either of the men when they got home. The instent he had entered the house, the teen rushed upstairs before his brothers could attempt to interrogate him. Jack crawled onto his bed, reaching for his headphones. Though Jack knew that his hasty escape would not hold them off for long, he hoped that they would give him enough time to think.

But that was more than Jack could hope for in this house. Angel was leaning against his door jam, "Ya know Bobby's gonna be up here pretty soon."

Jack made no move to answer him, instead reaching over his head to turn on the stereo, "Dude, you know this moody things gonna fail."

"Don't care," Jack glared at Angel. All he wanted was for the dark skinned teen to leave him alone. Sometimes he really hated these guys. Seeing Angel open his mouth, Jack struck out.

Angel was shocked when the pillow hit him right in the face, "It's just a bully, I can deal with it myself."

Smirking, Angel threw the pillow back onto the bed, "Sure ya can Cracker Jack. I was going to help ya fight off Bobby. But if you don't want my help. . ."

Angel shrugged. He moved away from the door as Jack sat up. Smirking he heard Jack stumble up, "Wait a minute! I didn't say that!"

* * *

Angel lounged on one of the benches outside of the school. If he had not had something to do today, Angel would have played hooky to hang out with his brothers. Jack had been confused when Angel had chosen to be the only Mercer in the school that day. Bobby had nodded, knowing what his younger brother had in mind.

It was among the last stragglers that the teen saw his prey. He raised quickly, his eyes never leaving the boy who was stepping away from the crowd. Following silently behind him, Angel glared at the hulking form's back. Every second that went by made him want to attack before he had planned. Luckily, the boy turned down a conveniently blind alley.

Angel stuck fast, grabbing Tridder and slamming him into the wall. He did not say a word as his fist smashed into soft flesh. Angel would never admit that his hits landed harder, driven by that blank look that Jack had. As long as Angel was around, anyone who hurt his little brother would feel the pain.

* * *

Ah, like I said, it did not take long to come out.

Next time, Bobby feels jealous of losing some of Evelyn's attention.


End file.
